


White (Noise) Christmas

by mvernet



Series: Sentinel Thursday Prompt Fics [6]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: A little angst, Blair Being An Elf, Christmas Fluff, Christmas fic, Jim Being a Scrooge, M/M, Sentinel Thursday Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 10:32:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15241464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvernet/pseuds/mvernet
Summary: Originally written for Live Journal Sentinel Thursday prompt, rain.Blair wants Jim to have a very Merry Christmas.





	White (Noise) Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the loft not a creature was stirring, except one long haired Anthropologist. As the rain beat down on the roof and tried to pound its way through the windows, Blair glowed in the light from one unscented candle. He sat silently on the living room floor, jingle bell free elf hat on his head. Beside him, a white noise generator aimed at Jim’s bedroom hopefully wiped out the sound of one elf guide frantically wrapping gifts for his bah humbug, Sentinel.

 

The first Christmas Blair had lived at the loft, he bowed to his Sentinel’s wishes of not celebrating the day. Blair still remembered the list of reasons. Allergic to fresh pine, zoned on shiny Christmas ornaments and bright tinsel. Carols gave him a headache. Candy canes gave him hives. And memories of Christmas with his dysfunctional family that he didn’t want to remember made him want to leave the day uncelebrated by his lonely household.

 

Blair had agreed easily. He had no traditions or memories of white Christmases or gaily wrapped presents from jolly old Santa. Or even a menorah with steadfast candles devotely lit for eight nights. 

 

Naomi believed in everything and nothing in particular, and more often than not, Christmas morning had him eating granola at yet another commune. Unaware of the date or the festivities he was missing. As an adult, he had always looked at the holiday as an outsider. Observing rather than enjoying the trappings of a modern holiday season. 

 

It gave him a childlike appreciation of mall Santas and elaborate light displays. Jim had a constant smirk on his face all through December as Blair pointed out hokey old Merry Christmas signs and bright red plastic sleds pulled by equally tacky reindeer landing precariously on small businesses downtown. 

 

Blair was thrilled when he received a traditional gift or a Christmas card from a well-meaning friend, and workplace Secret Santa exchanges were his secret pleasure. This year he had gifted Megan a small atomizer of “Joy” perfume, and received a tearful hug and kiss of appreciation while Major Crimes hooted and cat called. His own gift was the smile on Jim’s face. “Joy” was the only perfume that didn’t make Jim sneeze. Blair had returned from the mall one day with sample cards from an obliging sales girl and tested Jim to make sure. Jim actually enjoyed the jasmine and rose scent with a hint of Ylang YLang and tuberose. Blair gladly went back to the mall and ponied up the big bucks with an incandescent grin on his elf-like face.

 

Blair found that he was getting the hang of having the Christmas spirit and being rewarded by the wonderful heartwarming feeling of giving without regard to receiving. He found he began to crave those homemade sweets, unsolicited hugs and back pats that accompanied happy Christmas wishes. So much so that this year he decided he would win his Santa’s helper, candy cane colored stripes by giving Jim a traditional Pacific Northwest Christmas and maybe. Just maybe, earn himself a Jimsmile and, dare he wish, the extremely rare Jimhug.

 

Earlier tonight, Blair had gone along with Jim’s “ignore the season” theme and enjoyed their simple evening of pizza, beer and a Diehard marathon. The only Christmas movie Jim allowed in the loft, stating that just because the story happened to take place at Christmas time, did not make it a Christmas movie as Blair insisted. Blair chuckled softly as he remembered the argument from earlier.

 

“Chief! What do machine guns, explosions and heroic loner cops have to do with Christmas?”

 

Blair had just shaken his head at his clueless partner.

 

Blair had hidden all the trappings of Christmas in his room. He had found a small vintage aluminum Christmas tree, naturally hypoallergenic and thoroughly kitchy at a thrift store along with two boxes of tarnished ornaments, no longer shiny, but mellowed to lovely tones of green and bronze. Perfect for a sensitive Sentinel. 

 

Starting the day after Thanksgiving, Blair had purchased gifts and stocking stuffers, till he had a small mountain of presents hidden under his bed. Most of the gifts were odd little toys and puzzles, candy made without preservatives, and a plethora of unscented, sentinel safe personal products. 

 

The white noise generator had worked like a charm. Blair had set up the tree, filled a large stocking emblazoned with a lopsided, glitter and glue “Jim.” to overflowing and piled beribboned wrapped gifts around the tree. 

 

Blair, happily exhausted, leaned back against the couch and watched the rain. His eyes grew heavy and he shivered slightly as his head listed to the side. He wrapped his arms around himself and whispered before falling unknowingly into slumber,. “All I need now is this gloomy rain to turn to snow.”

 

~~~******~~~

 

Jim blinked himself awake, wondering what had awakened him. He was certain it wasn’t a noise. The loft was silent except for the sound of icy rain on glass. He glanced up at his skylight to find that the rain seemed to be lightening as dawn approached. 

 

“Guess maybe I sensed a change in the weather,” he said sleepily.

 

Jim spiraled out his senses to check on Blair as was his morning habit since the horror of Lash. He bolted upright. Something was wrong. He could smell his guide, the scent strongest in the living room. But he couldn’t hear the steady life affirming heartbeat of the man who meant the world to him. Dressed only in silk boxers and a tank top, he grabbed for his gun and headed downstairs cautiously, making no sound as he took one step at a time. Not trusting his hearing, he scanned the loft for an intruder’s scent or God forbid, the scent of Blair’s blood.

 

Finally he spotted Blair crumpled on the floor, his Sentinel eyes zeroing in on the white noise generator at his side. He jumped down the last four steps and landed on his feet cat-like, rushing to his partner’s side. His own heart pounding double time in his chest to make up for the absence of his Guide’s. He reached for the generator, his gun clenched tightly in his trembling right hand, and turned it off. Immediately the normal, resting beat of Blair’s heart filled Jim’s hearing and mind with blessed, but short lived relief.

 

“What the hell, Sandburg? What the hell were you thinking?”

 

Blair lifted himself clumsily on a sleep numbed elbow. His elf hat had fallen over his eyes blinding him for a moment to Jim’s enraged glair. Jim swiped at the hat throwing it haphazardly behind the couch.

 

“White noise generator? Aimed at me? Answer me, or so help me I’ll…”

 

Blair was wide awake in a second, with a smile and a Merry Christmas ready on his lips He took in the scowl, the angry ice blue eyes and the gun still held in the hand of his Sentinel. Blair felt as if all the warm air had been sucked out of the room and ice cold rain had fallen on his Christmas parade.

 

“You’ll what? Kick my ass? Kick me out into the rain like a dog who misbehaved on your precious wood floors? Maybe you should just shoot me and put me out of my misery. Christ, Jim! Look around, super-detective. What do you think I was doing?”

 

Blair stood and stomped his way to his room intent and having a traditional Christmas sulk behind a well slammed door. An odd gasping noise from the living room stopped him in his tracks. 

 

“Ohhhh. Chief. Look at all this!”

 

Blair turned and walked slowly back. The sight before him changed the frustrated tears in his soulful eyes to tears of true Christmas joy. Jim’s gun was safely set aside on the kitchen counter. And the big tough cop was sprawled on his tummy, pulling presents out from under the tree and reading the festive labels. He looked for all the world like an oversized five year old who couldn’t believe that Santa had put him on the nice list. Jim lifted his head towards Blair.

“This is all for me? Really?”

 

Blair imagined the strange feeling gripping his heart was the same one that kept people giving presents to loved ones, year after year, no matter how bad the economy or how overly commercial the season had become. He took a deep breath and let himself feel the the greatest Christmas present of all. Love for your fellow man. And one fellow in particular who was looking at him with such adoration and excitement, he had to play along.

 

“Jim, you’ve been very naughty. But I appealed your case at the North Pole court and explained the extenuating circumstances.”

 

Jim stifled a smile and tried to look serious. “What circumstances is that, Sandburg?”

 

Blair moved to the couch and sat hands folded in his lap formally. “I told them you had a lot to adjust to being a Sentinel and all. And that you were an anal retentive jerk by nature.”

 

“Santa knows about Sentinels?” Ignoring the jerk jab, Jim was all out smirking now.

 

Blair opened his blue eyes wide and whispered. “Santa is a Sentinel. He hears you if you’re sleeping, he knows if you’re awake? Sounds like someone I know!” 

 

Jim began to chuckle at that. “Awwww, Chief. I’m so sorry that…”

 

“None of that, Jim, my boy. I won my appeal and got to be Santa’s helper this year and plan a Sentinel safe Christmas for a good little Jim. You get a whole day to be a complete asshole with no repercussions.”

 

“I made a good start at that already, Blairelf.”

 

Blair smiled at that. “Time’s a waistin’, Big Guy. Start with your stocking and remember it’s good luck to share chocolate on Christmas morn.”

 

“Chocolate? Where?” Jim tore into his stocking.

 

After a few joyful moments of enjoying his Sentinel at play. Blair wandered into the kitchen to make coffee and start the big Christmas breakfast he had planned. He laughed at Jim’s exclaimed, “Cool! Hot Wheels, Starsky and Hutch Torino! WeeeeOoooo! WeeeeOoooo! Sccccreech!”

 

A few moments later, Blair’s elf hat was placed back on his head, large arms wrapped around his waist and a strong chin settled on his shoulder. “Thanks, Blair. I’ve never had a happier Christmas.”

 

Outside, the persistent Cascade rain turned to magical Christmas snow.


End file.
